


Where are we?

by huntersandangels



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3492530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntersandangels/pseuds/huntersandangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'last night was a haze for both of us and somehow we woke up hungover in a bed that isn't either of ours and also neither of us recognize this apartment we should probably get out of here before someone calls the cops on us' au</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where are we?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by[ this ](http://oflovesandlikes.tumblr.com/post/112805725834)tumblr post 
> 
> quick ficlet because I couldn't get it out of my head. I still don't think I did the idea justice as the fic kind of took its own course. Apologies for the unimaginative title.  
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own

The first thing Patrick feels, even before blinking his eyes awake, is a raging headache, the kind that has your heartbeat ringing in your ears and the feeling you took a hammer straight to your meninges.

 He registers a dull ache as well in all the right places and he allows himself a moment of disappointment for having no recollection of it whatsoever before the rational part of his brain catches up and sends a loud prayer to whoever might be listening to have been coherent enough at the time to have had at least used protection.

The minute that thought sinks in, Patrick feels a wave of dread surround him. Every cell of his body is suddenly awake and alert and he shoots up, head spinning in the process. 

The closed drapes don’t allow enough light in the room but Patrick can still make out that this is definitely not his own bedroom. Turning to his side all he can spot is a mess of dark hair. His…partner in crime, for lack of a better word, has his face hidden in a pillow half-hugging it with one arm. 

Patrick takes in the sight, toned arms that stretch, firm back-not over muscular and a hint of dimples right on the spine and guessing from the curve under the sheet a very fine ass indeed. At least he can take comfort that even in his drunken taste he still possesses some kind of taste.

It’s still not enough to subdue his fears, because Patrick may be a lot of things but he has never, ever played Russian roulette with his safety. He settles on his side in a way that doesn’t make him want to vomit and shakes the figure next to him away “Wake up man”

There’s not even a stir, no movement whatsoever and Patrick has read this or seen it in a movie; he’s not in a state that would allow him to remember but blacking out and waking up next to a corpse? That’s how you wrongfully end up in prison and Pat is too pretty to fare well in there. So he shakes a bit harder and he would have yelled if the hammering in his head allowed it. He settles for a more forceful “Wake up” and that does the trick.

The figure next to him twitches and moans and Patrick sighs with relief. “Dude, wake up” he repeats impatiently this time

"f’ve m’re min’tes" the muffled gruff would have been cute any other time

"Get the fuck up" Patrick is losing his temper

The man beside him turns his head and -huh, well done Pat-he’s a looker, - blinks “Coffee?” he mumbles 

Something bubbles inside Patrick “Did we get married last night as well?” is what he finds himself asking.

That gets the guy’s attention and he finally seems awake enough “What?” he croaks and jolts up frantically shoving his hand on his face looking for evidence.

"Either that, with this whole ‘what’s mine is yours, make me coffee’ attitude since this is your house and all, or you have a very shitty morning after etiquette" it all comes out at once, panic blending with frustration 

"Speaking of which, you better have used a condom asshole because I’m not gonna risk my safety for a thing that I don’t even remember if I enjoyed"

The guy’s face turns red and the blush makes its way down his neck stopping shy of his collarbone. Patrick should not be finding it adorable, this is a serious matter and he shouldn’t be distracted by otherwise attractive, pensive men.

Panic and guilt in his eyes and all, the guy has no shred of modesty as he gets up and bats the sheet away, giving a full view of his…assets.

The moment his feet touch the floor, a loud yelp comes out of his mouth and a horrified expression takes over his entire face as he glances to his feet. He gingerly picks up a discarded condom, holding it with the tip of his two fingers “Well, the good news is that we were safe apparently” he deadpans searching somewhere to dump the latex in question

Patrick breathes a deep sigh of relief “Wait!” he says when everything calms down inside him “what’s the bad news?” he can’t catch a break, can he?

The guy- Patrick should really ask his name- gestures around the room “This- is not my bedroom”

“Did we crash at your friends’?” Patrick asks because that’s the next logical conclusion.

“I don’t recognize the place” he answers flatly, unemotional like he didn’t just inform Patrick that they are basically in a stranger’s house “I’m guessing you don’t either”

Patrick blinks again, and then blinks once more for good measure “Then…where are we?”

The guy just shrugs “Are you fucking kidding me, dude?” he asks indignantly  

“Jon” the guy says “My name is Jon, don’t call me dude”

Patrick has the urge to burrow his hand in his hair and starts pulling; this guy- Jon- frustrates him to no end

“How can you be this calm… _Jon_? We’re in a stranger’s house. We…we slept on a stranger’s bed, for Christ’s sake!”

Jon’s gaze rakes all over Pat’s body “And that doesn’t happen to you often, does it?”

“Excuse me?” he is deeply offended by the implication that Patrick is…he doesn’t know what but whatever he was implying it didn’t sound as a compliment.

Jon runs his hand all over his face “Look…I’m sorry, that was uncalled for but you need to calm down.”

Patrick guesses he has to panic enough for both of them since the guy seems unfazed “Calm down? - _Calm down_?  We’re in a _stranger’s_ house, we’re _trespassing_!  We’re most likely getting _arrested_!”

The last comment seems to have the desired effect “Shit, fuck, damn” Jon is letting out a sting of curses along with something that Patrick doesn’t understand but he’s pretty sure it sounds French. He wonders if he speaks French in bed as well because that would be kind of hot and he has to shake his head to clear his mind of those thoughts because this is so not the time.

Jon searches frantically around for his clothes, gathering scattered items and searching his pockets. It seems they were in a right state last night.

“Ok, here’s the plan” Jon says as he begins dressing “We get dressed” he pointedly raises an eyebrow at Patrick still in bed clutching the sheet in his palm “check to see if anyone’s outside and we make a run for it as quietly as we possibly can, yeah?”

It’s a good plan and Pat can’t find himself argue even if he really, really wants to because- who died and made him boss? He looks down on himself sheepishly “Can you-ehmm- turn around maybe?” he’s not usually self-conscious but something makes him unbelievably shy. It’s stupid, given their current situation, he just can’t help it

Jon’s lips quirk in amusement, but does as he’s asked nonetheless. Patrick can see him from the corner of his eye wrapping the used condom in a tissue. Good thinking- hiding the evidence.

As soon as they’re ready-thank God his phone, keys and wallet are still in his pocket- Jon cracks the door open turning the handle as gently as he can. He takes a quick peek and Patrick plasters himself on his back to have a look as well to no avail since Jon’s much bigger frame obscures his view.

‘All clear’ Jon mouths at him and Patrick can’t help but snort because what is this exactly?- mission impossible?

He follows Jon out anyway, back against the wall, so very careful as to not make a sound. Jon reaches the space between corridor and the living room area and motions Patrick to join.

He doesn’t increase his pace, better safe than sorry but apparently Jon is both a bossy fucker and somewhat impatient because he reaches back, grabs Patrick by the sleeve and tugs him forward.

They locate the door ten feet away from where they currently standing and Jon lowers his hand from Patrick’s sleeve and joins their palms together. His hand is soft and strong at the same time and Pat’s body apparently appreciates the warm feeling as it sends quick tickles all over his arm.

Lost in the feeling and the image of how that hand must have felt all over his body last night he barely registers that he’s being manhandled and ushered out of the house. The brightness of the sun causes his eyes to shut tight and makes him cringe.

Unintentionally, he squeezes Jon’s hand. There’s a movement on his side and the feeling of Jon letting go but his eyes hurt too much to be willing to open, enough to not let the gesture hurt his feelings. A shade covers him, puzzling him because he doesn’t think he was moved.

He opens his eyes and catches Jon putting a cap on Pat’s head. He looks at Patrick a little bashful “It was in my jacket pocket” he says and shrugs, trying but failing to play it cool.

Patrick raises and eyebrow questioning “Is it yours or are we getting arrested for theft along with squatting?”

 “It’s mine” he nods the same time as he speaks

Patrick shallows something that feels like a lump in his throat “Thanks” he follows it with a reserved smile and Jon returns it with one of his own.

Jon clears his throat “So…”

Oh God, they reached the awkward state “Patrick” he blurts “My name- it’s Patrick” it's not what he intended to say

“Patrick” Jon repeats like his rolling it off his tongue to get a feel of it.

Patrick just nods and shrugs his shoulder. A honk sounds loudly and makes them both jump. They look around simultaneously, eyes wide. The street doesn’t seem busy and Patrick lets his gaze wander trying to find some sense of familiarity “Where are we?” he repeats a previous question

“I- I have no idea” Jon replies and other than his shoulder slumping he gives off no other emotion but still takes a few steps away from the crime sce- the house

“Oh” he says stupidly but follows blindly

They both pause for a second then look at each other again “So…” they start simultaneously and that makes them crack a genuine smile.

“Well- I’ve got to-“Patrick starts, he doesn’t know what to say, he just needs to break the tension  

He can see Jon fidget next to him and cast his eyes down as he speaks over Patrick “Emm..there’s…there’s a diner there” he gestures somewhere on the other side of the road but stops mid sentence as he probably realizes what Pat was going to say.

“Oh, yeah, sure” he says

“No-I- what were you going to say?”

“It was nothing, forget it. Don’t let me keep you” the guy sure builds his defenses fast

“It’s not like I need to be anywhere” Pat says truthfully- or maybe it’s a half truth since he doesn’t even know what time it is

“Yeah?” Jon vividly relaxes and his lips tag upwards in the corner

Patrick nods frantically, much more eagerly than he should have considering he’s fishing for an invitation by a total stranger.

“I was gonna- I was gonna ask if maybe, if you’d like” Jon fumbles with his words and the tip of his ears pink a little. He lets out a deep sigh “Doyouwanttohavebreakfastwithme?”

Even rushed and all Patrick still understands him but he finds his fluster adorable so he can’t help himself being a bit of an asshole “What was that?” he bites his bottom lip to stop himself from grinning.

Jon’s eyes narrow suspiciously “I said- Do you want to have breakfast with me?”

Patrick tilts his head back a little, placing one hand on his forehead-palm up, his other over his heart “Oh, Jonny, I thought you’d never ask” he fakes swooning

“Asshole” Jon says as he tags him across the street and though he turns his head to look at the road as they cross Patrick can still see the beginning of a smile there.

This time he lets his own smirk roam free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with me on
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://oflovesandlikes.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> if you want


End file.
